


A Matter of Technique

by HavetoHowl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Awkward Kissing, Closet Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Hobrien, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Secret Relationship, Yuletide Assignment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2709347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HavetoHowl/pseuds/HavetoHowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler requests some acting advice and gets more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Technique

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepsychicclam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/gifts).



Tyler stretched out on the couch in his trailer and watched the scene again. It was more comfortable than sitting up in the tight jeans they liked to deck Derek out in.

He sighed and hit rewind. “I shouldn’t dwell on this. I shouldn’t. It’s _fine_.”

But he watched the part of the scene again where he kissed Haley, where they began to make love, where she stood behind him and he turned to kiss her. He thumbed the button to stop it. What was the question she’d been asked about that on one of the after shows?

 _What was it like making out with Tyler Hoechlin_?

Haley had apparently tried to be diplomatic, but he still couldn’t believe her answer. _You know, it was like kissing any human being._

Thanks, Haley. Way to make a guy feel great. She’d thrown in _it was lovely_ , probably because she realized what a horrible answer she’d given. How he wished that was all she’d said.

Tyler watched the scenes again. Derek was ripped open and in pain, not healing, and still devastated about Erica (or at least Tyler thought these things, whether they were written in or not). If their kisses and embrace seemed a little less than passionate, well, what did they expect?

_like kissing any human being_

Welp, it didn’t make me throw up in my mouth a little! It wasn’t like kissing a mammal of the four-legged variety!

Would it have killed her just to say it was nice, or great, or all right?

Tyler punched a couple of buttons so that the disc changed, then watched the scene with a critical eye. _Yeah, critical_.

Everything about this kiss was different. The body language spoke of pent-up sexual tension. The kiss was hungry. Their bodies pressed together in a way that looked right.

The kiss, the touches, the way the actors played off each other in the scene--that was the kind of sexy heat Tyler wanted his own scenes to convey. He told himself that Derek and Jennifer were a completely different situation, of course the characters wouldn’t seem this easy together or this passionate.

But there was more to it than that. As he watched the scene again, as he had at least a couple of dozen times, he knew that if Haley had played the girl he was watching, she’d have never given that bullshit answer: _like kissing any human being_. She’d have probably fanned herself and hooted or something.

Tyler thought that was how he’d feel. Seems like it’d be hard to be anything less than enthusiastic when asked about those kisses. Watching them always made Tyler feel things that he never felt when watching his own kissing scenes. He’d told himself it was that he was watching himself, it was weird, but he’d also watched plenty of scenes of Posey kissing Crystal. They were good, they were sweet and sexy, but it wasn’t the same.

Whether it was in _Teen Wolf_ when the character was kissing with intent or surprised with a smooch, or in _New Girl_ in a child’s playhouse when the character is supposed to be impotent and maybe gay, or this scene in _The First Time_ when kissing led to so much more, Dylan, man, Dylan _kissed_. Nobody would ever say something so banal _like kissing any human being_ about any of those scenes. No _way_. Tyler hadn’t been on the receiving end, but just watching, he knew.

And watching it always stirred feelings in Tyler. A little envy, because his kissing scenes never looked like that, and he wanted them to. They never felt like Dylan’s scenes looked like they felt. And also, longing. To be kissed the way Dylan kissed his costars. Just to see what--

Tyler flinched as someone knocked on his trailer door. Before he could shout _come in_ the door cracked open, and only Dylan or Posey ever did that. Tyler sat up and thumbed the button to change the disc, just in time.

“Dude, what’s up?” Dylan plopped onto the couch next to Tyler. “Whatcha watching?” Dylan took the remote from Tyler’s hand and pushed play. The disc whirred into place.

“Just watching a couple of scenes, trying to see, uh . . . work on technique a little bit.” _Please don’t let Dylan’s movie be the one loading. Please, please_. “Let’s play _Halo_.”

Before he could grab the remote, Derek and Jennifer appeared on screen.

“Technique? Working on your _bleeding out in agony and having sex in a situation nobody would ever have sex in_ technique?”

They’d had conversations about this scene before, mostly consisting of Dylan questioning why Derek would fall for Jennifer so quickly and aggravation at the lack of explanation coming from the writers. And how a guy could get it up with his torso ripped open that way.

Tyler laughed. “Something like that.”

Dylan grunted and watched the scene. He could have been watching golf or the news. He seemed unmoved.

Tyler couldn’t stand it. “How would you have done it?”

“Done what?”

“That scene. The kiss.”

Dylan frowned a little and looked at him.

Hoechlin shrugged. “To make it sexy.”

“Pshhhhh, dude, I don’t know. Derek’s torn open, black blood everywhere. Not sure it should be that sexy.”

“But say it’s supposed to be. It _was_ supposed to be. How would you do it differently and make it better?” Tyler put up his hand when he knew Dylan was going to argue. “Look, I know you don’t like sounding as if you’re critiquing other actors. I know that about you. But I’m asking, seriously asking. The scene’s just . . . not what it should have been. Tell me why you think that is, and how you’d have done it.” He gave Dylan pleading eyes. “Come on.”

Dylan frowned at the screen this time. “It’s not an easy scene, so don’t be so hard on yourself. But maybe . . . I think maybe I’d have made Derek a little more . . . I don’t know. Desperate? Like, needing that kiss like air, hesitant from the pain and fear of being hurt, but unable to resist her anyway, because everything’s gone so wrong for him and maybe this, Jennifer, will be the one good thing he’s had in a while.”

Tyler blinked a few times, then nodded. He could see that in his mind’s eye. Dylan kissing Haley in a desperate way, needing her like breath, trying to hold back but unable to. Dylan pulling back half an inch and sucking in air, letting a moment of hesitation build the tension even more, before kissing her again like he might die if it didn’t happen soon enough.

 _Damn_.

“Yeah,” Tyler said. “That makes sense.”

“I think you went a different direction, tried to hold back and make Derek seem more hesitant. And dude, this is armchair quarterbacking. If you’d had a hint about Haley’s character and where things were going, you could have let all that figure in. You’d have probably had another take on the whole scene.”

“Probably.” _But it still wouldn’t have compared to one of yours_.  “What do you think about when you kiss someone? In a scene? To make it . . . sexier.” Tyler knew Dylan wasn’t comfortable being asked. Dylan’s humility, especially when it came to acting, made him self-conscious around more experienced actors.

“Sexy things, I don’t know. That I’m kissing someone who really turns me on, and that it’s real instead of pretend.” Dylan handed Tyler the remote. “What do you think about?”

What _did_ he think about? As he realized what generally went through his head during a kissing scene, he wished he’d never started this conversation.

“Ah, nothing. Never mind. Wanna play, or watch some--”

“Quid pro quo, Clarice,” Dylan said in a half-decent Hannibal Lecter impression. “Come on, dude. What were you thinking about when you were kissing Haley?”

Tyler sighed. “Mostly, I was focused on what to do with my mouth.”

Dylan laughed, then grabbed Tyler’s arm when Tyler leaned away from him. “Oh, Hoech, your face. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just . . . you overthought it, buddy.” He squeezed Tyler’s arm, then snatched his hand back to his own lap and looked down for a moment. Dylan cleared his throat.

“I mean, your mouth . . . that should just be natural. You should be thinking sexier things than that. Is it always that way when you kiss?”

“On screen, yeah. And off. Sometimes.” _Most of the time_.

“You’ve got this mouth thing going on.” Dylan motioned with his fingers. “You’re very . . . close-mouthed or something. Not just when you kiss in a scene, but even when you talk. You do this, this thing.”

Dylan curved his mouth so that the corners were down, but he looked like he was trying to smile through it. “You have the expression all the time. I guess you’re just mouth-oriented, so it’d be natural to focus on that.”

He still kept moving his mouth around to try to imitate what Tyler did.

“I do not do that.”

Dylan pinched his lips together in something that looked like a frown, a smirk and a smile all once. “You do, dude. I swear. I’m not criticizing. I mean, it’s cute, but you sort of do the closed-lip thing when you kiss, too, so maybe think about opening up a little. Your mouth, your body language. Don’t _focus_ so much.”

Tyler heard everything Dylan said, but sitting like a cherry on top of a sundae _it’s cute_ echoed through his head. Which probably made his expression look dumbstruck, if the way Dylan stared at him was any indication.

Dylan laughed. “Even now, you have this blank _uhhhhh_ look on your face, but your lips look super-glued together.” He grasped Tyler’s jaw between his fingers and thumb and wiggled lightly. “Let go a little.”

Tyler let his mouth fall open and smiled as Dylan jiggled his jaw back and forth. He pushed Dylan’s hand away. “You’re so full of it.” Did his voice always sound that high-pitched?

“No, I’m serious. Just let your jaw drop. Let your mouth hang open. _Uhhhhhhh_.” Dylan let his mouth fall open, but of course he rolled his eyes back a little as he did it.

“Uhhh.” Tyler knew instantly the difference. His was controlled, tight. _Uptight_. While Dylan looked like he’d just lost an important part of his brain. He adjusted himself to match Dylan’s slack-jawed look. “Uhhhhh. _Uhhhhhh_.”   _There_.

“Congratulations,” Dylan said, his eyes still rolled back a bit and his mouth barely moving from it’s gaping position. “You look really, really stupid now.”

Tyler laughed and punched Dylan’s shoulder.

“See, though, how different it feels. You’re all ratcheted up, even when you kiss. Just let go a little. Relax into it and think of someone you really, really want to kiss. I’ll bet it’ll feel more natural, anyway.”

“Yeah. I’ll try that next time.” Tyler really was grateful for the advice. He often wished Dylan would give it more freely, because even though he’d been acting since he was little, he enjoyed a new perspective on things. Especially from someone with such a natural, easy talent as Dylan.

“Cool.” Dylan cleared his throat and picked at his fingernail. “Why not try it now?”

Tyler’s eyebrows rose. “Huh?” Did he--? No. He couldn’t have.

Dylan smirked and looked down, shaking his head. “Nothin’. Let me kick your ass at _Halo_.”

What if he asked and he’d heard wrong? What if--? “Did you say why not try it now?”

“Yeah.” Dylan shrugged. “I mean, why not? You wanted to work on your technique, you asked my advice . . . who better to tell you if you’re getting it or not?”

“Okay.” _Oh, God_.

“Okay. So.” Dylan turned on the couch to face Tyler. “Maybe try it the way you did before, and then try it more relaxed, thinking sexier thoughts, not focusing on clenching up your whole face.”

“I don’t clench up my whole--”

“You know what I mean.” He grabbed Tyler’s chin and jiggled, letting his own mouth fall open and his tongue loll out.

“Abthbthbthbthbt.” Dylan wiggled his tongue back and forth. “Loose and easy, right? But first, kiss me like an uptight werewolf.”

They both laughed, and thank God for that, because Tyler felt like he might come out of his skin otherwise. “Okay. Uptight werewolf. Incoming.” They both snorted again, and then Tyler’s lips were on Dylan’s.

Neither of them moved, just held tightly pressed lips to tightly pressed lips, their heads tilted almost at 45 degree angles from each other. But the fact that Dylan’s lips were beneath his . . . .

He pulled back and raised his eyebrows. _God, I just licked my lips! The second he opened his eyes, I licked my lips._ Dylan looked right at Tyler’s mouth and licked his own lips. Maybe that was just a natural thing people did?

“Okay,” Dylan said. “That was dry, literally and figuratively, right? The old way of scene kissing. Now, pretend you’re kissing someone you’re really into, loose and easy.” Dylan licked his lips again.

Tyler did, too. He nodded, and leaned forward, carefully pressing his lips to Dylan’s. He would be relaxed and pretend he was kissing someone he really, really wanted to kiss.

_I already am._

_Oh, God._

“Dude, too focused,” Dylan said, their lips still pressed together.

 _Froze. I’m frozen_. “Sorry,” Tyler said as he pulled back. He was in mid-lip-lick when Dylan grabbed his jaw and jiggled again, flipping his tongue around and letting his mouth hang open. “Stop trying so hard and just kiss someone who turns you on. Picture whomever, and just do what comes naturally.”

Tyler thought about his past girlfriends. None had any complaints, but he’d always had the feeling he never really wowed them when they kissed. But he’d never really felt the way he felt now at the thought of kissing Dylan.

No. Nope. He couldn’t kiss Dylan the way he was right now thinking about kissing him. They worked together. They hung out. He couldn’t do _that_

“Look, here, let me show you. Role reversal.” Dylan had his lips pressed to Tyler’s before he even registered what was happening. It was a moderately moist but closed-mouth kiss, much like the ones he’d given Dylan.

“See. Blah.” Dylan straightened. “Go from that, to this.” Dylan slowly leaned in. His lips parted just before they were out of Tyler’s line of sight. Dylan’s sighed exhalation buffeted Tyler’s lips before a warm, wet mouth pressed against his, already open and moving and impossible to resist.

Tyler’s lips fell open. He flinched at the wet slide of a tongue over his bottom lip, and licked back, tasting Dylan’s mouth for the first time. At the faint hint of coffee, the reality of what they were doing descended. When Dylan’s mouth sucked lightly against his tongue, Tyler pulled back.

He nodded and blinked rapidly. “Okay, I see. Much better, yeah.” When he dared look up at Dylan, Dylan’s eyes were on Tyler’s mouth, the tip of his tongue resting on the thickest part of his bottom lip.

“Good. Now you do it,” he whispered. His gaze met Tyler’s, then he focused on Tyler’s mouth again.

Tyler leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Dylan’s lower lip, then sucked lightly before sliding up to press their mouths more fully together. His hand cupped the back of Dylan’s neck, fingers sliding into the short hairs there. Dylan’s hand pressed down on Tyler’s thigh.

Tyler pulled back, their lips still brushing together, and sucked in a breath. _He needed this like air_. His tongue slid alongside Dylan’s, and he found himself leaning his whole body over, as if he were about to press Dylan onto his back.

“Is Dylan in there?” The shout came at the same time as three sharp knocks. “Jeff wants him on set in five.”

“Yeah, okay!” Both of them shouted in answer, pulling away from each other and straightening on the couch. The assistant didn’t open the door, but the moment was gone.

Dylan stood as if a spring had propelled him up from the couch. “So, wow. Yeah, I think you’ve licked the clenchy-mouth thing.” He gave Tyler a thumbs up and a wink, his other hand scratching his chin. He rubbed his fingertips over his lips, and Tyler wondered if he might be trying to wipe away what happened.

“Thanks. Yeah, I think I get it now. Dylan--”

“‘Kay, Hoech, see you at dinner. All right?”

“Yep.” He nodded, and felt his mouth going back to that familiar, downturned pattern. He grabbed a throw pillow and squeezed it to his stomach. “ _Yep_.” He threw himself sideways to lay on the couch again, only feeling how much the waistband had dug into him once he was no longer sitting up.

He’d explained to Jeff once that he thought Derek would wear clothes that weren’t quite as restrictive, because he was always on guard for trouble. It was easier to kick ass, or get your ass kicked,  in comfy clothes, he’d explained. But Jeff had his own idea about Derek’s motivations, as usual.

Tyler was grateful for the tight jeans now, holding him in and keeping his state from being as obvious. If he’d been wearing board shorts, he’d probably have a hard time looking Dylan in the eye. Not that it would be easy now. But Dylan had been the one to suggest it! He’d blushed! He’d kissed Tyler . . . the way Tyler had imagined being kissed by him.

He groaned and unbuttoned his jeans, then carefully peeled the zipper down over the bulge. He cupped himself, then hopped up and hobbled to the door. He snapped the lock into place, pulled a few tissues out of the box on a small table nearby and pushed his shirt up to his armpits before stretching out on the couch again. The last thing he wanted was someone, probably Posey, knocking and opening the door at the same time and catching him jacking it on the couch. Or if Dylan came back for something and caught him.

Tyler chuckled as he pushed his jeans down far enough to slide the waistband of his underwear beneath his balls.

He’d never done this to the memory of only kissing a girlfriend or an actress. But as he stroked himself, he thought about Dylan shyly saying _why not try it now_. Dylan kissing him. Kissing Dylan. And if no one had knocked and interrupted them, maybe it wouldn’t be _his_ hand, or a hand at all. Maybe--

Tyler grunted with exertion as the pleasure hit him, faster than he’d expected. He imagined Dylan’s hand drawing the pleasure out, easing him down. Dylan’s kiss after, from a smiling mouth, pleased at what he’d done.

“This is going to be a problem,” he whispered.  

He was called to set about 40 minutes later for a scene, then got into a lengthy discussion with Jeff, and talked to J.R. for a little while. He’d wanted to watch Dylan’s scene so he could talk to him right afterwards, not about what happened in his trailer, just to make sure it wasn’t going to be awkward as he feared it was.

By the time he’d gotten to the set, Dylan was done and gone, so he had to wait until their dinner break to hope to talk to him. As Tyler got to the table, he saw Dylan and Posey already at the end, their plates mostly full as they grabbed bread and butter from the last station. Tyler filled his plate and made his way over to Dylan, but decided he didn’t really want to test this in front of Posey.

He sat next to J.R. and Ian, and only glanced Dylan’s way a few times. Dylan never looked back at him.

They managed to miss each other for most of the rest of shooting. It was time for a Derek and Braeden scene, and it seemed like a hundred people who weren’t usually there gathered around to watch. He wasn’t even shirtless, like the scene with Jill licking his abs that they’d all freaked out over.

Tyler got into his headspace. Derek, failing powers, shown up by Braeden who knew guns and human self-defense in a way Derek never had to learn, sexual tension . . . . When no one was watching, he let his jaw drop, let his tongue loll and p _bbthbthbthbthb_ the way Dylan had done. If nothing else, it made him smile and served to relax him.

He played the scene, and in the moment he was supposed to grab her and kiss her, he followed Dylan’s advice. Pretend you’re kissing someone who really turns you on. Meagan was gorgeous and sexy, but Tyler didn’t picture her. He didn’t picture any woman.

And when it was over and they’d taken the last take, he got pats on the back and shoulders, Posey howling and dry-humping a stage hand, and more compliments than he’d gotten since his possessed-Derek scene with J.R. in the previous season. It felt great. She wouldn’t be telling people it was liking kissing any human being, that was for damn sure. He kissed that girl, kissed her good, because in his mind he was kissing somebody else.

Nothing felt quite as good as seeing Dylan across the room, though, wink and give him a thumbs up. He’d had no idea Dylan was even watching, and he was glad he didn’t know. He nodded and grinned, but before he could make his way over, Russell stopped to talk.

When everything was finished and he could go, Tyler went to his trailer to change before heading home, worry about Dylan still on his mind.  His wink and thumbs up might have meant _dude, you did it, what we did worked_ and that it would never come up again. He figured that was what was happening.

He didn’t want that to happen. But if that was what Dylan really wanted, then so be it. He’d never push the issue and risk making him uncomfortable.

But, God, how he wanted Dylan to not be uncomfortable.

He walked into his trailer and jumped to see someone already there. Dylan waited on his couch. “Hey.”

“Hey. You forgot to hide.”

“Wasn’t trying to scare you, or you’d be beside yourself with fright by now.” He grinned and stood, rubbing his palms on his corduroy-clad thighs. “In a hurry?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” Dylan sat again, so Tyler sat next to him.  They did little but stare at each other for several seconds. “So,” Dylan said. “Your scene with Meagan. The big kiss. It was . . . great. The, uh, grabbing and the lifting and  . . .. whoo. Great stuff. You really went for it.”

“Yeah? Thanks. Took your advice.”

“I thought so. It worked, huh? Pretending to kiss someone you really like?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.”

Dylan nodded and scratched his jaw in the way that he did when he was nervous or uneasy. He rarely ever did it in private, around him or Posey. It was more an interview w _hy do I have to answer these questions_ thing. Tyler hoped he wasn’t nervously trying to figure out a way to say _forget it ever happened, bro._

“Who were you thinking of? I know that’s a nosy question, but if you don’t mind.” Dylan scratched the back of his neck.

“With Meagan?”

“Yeah. Or . . . with me. Either.”

Tyler swallowed and felt the dread of the next decision, how much it could affect, how much it could change. _The kiss was Dylan’s idea_ he kept telling himself, but it didn’t help. Seeing him nervous--he was never nervous like that around Tyler.

“Do I know her?” Dylan asked when Tyler didn’t answer right away. “Do we work with her, or have we? Come on, don’t make me play 20 questions.”

“You know this person, yeah. You, uh, you know him.”

Dylan’s eyebrows shot up. Tyler regretted the honesty until Dylan said, “Me, too. I mean, when I kissed you earlier? I was thinking of a guy, too.” Dylan laughed, but he blushed and his eyes seemed especially bright. “Wouldn’t it be funny,” he started, but shook his head as if he idea were too ridiculous.

But time seemed to stop for Tyler, who could only think that this could be a defining moment. Does he let it pass him by or does he go for it? Was Dylan thinking it’d be funny if they were thinking of each other, but he was too afraid to say it?

“What would be funny?” Tyler leaned a little closer, realized that Dylan looked at his mouth again.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we were both thinking of the same guy? Like Colton or Posey or something?”

Tyler pulled back to look at him, his eyes this time. Yeah, this was _the_ defining moment, and there was no way he was letting that pass. “Nah, that wouldn’t be funny,” he said. “And I wasn’t thinking of either of them.”

He grabbed Dylan’s face in his hands and kissed him. He didn’t think about his mouth, clench or relax, or what his body was doing or anything beyond that moment. It felt good and natural, and he had no need to focus on each and every movement. He just kissed Dylan.  He went for it.

He went for it, and he _got_ it.

His tongue pressed against Dylan’s, his teeth caught Dylan’s plump lower lip, he sucked the gorgeous little curve of the top one. He’d never kissed or been kissed like this in his life, and all he could think was _how did I not do this a couple of years ago?_

He pulled back enough to really look at Dylan, then kissed his cheek right on top of that mole, that genuine beauty mark he’d always wanted to feel with his lips. He touched it with the tip of his tongue, sucked at the skin, then made his way toward Dylan’s ear, taking time over each mole he passed as if they were markers on a path, leading him to that soft spot beneath the lobe.

Dylan gasped and tilted his head, stretching his neck out in invitation, so Tyler kissed down the length of it. He nuzzled the crook of neck and shoulder, and thought of the mole he knew dotted Dylan’s collarbone beneath his shirt.

He knew the locations of freckles and moles, having lived with Dylan. He hadn’t walked around shirtless from the beginning the way Posey had, it had taken him a little longer, but after several weeks he was comfortable enough to walk out of the bathroom after a shower in just board shorts or, once or twice, a towel.

And in watching _The First Time_ , Tyler had noticed each little dot again. He wanted to touch and kiss each one. The one on his pec, just above his nipple. The one on his side, beneath his armpit. The one--

“How can you breathe in these?” Dylan asked, tugging at the fly of Tyler’s jeans.

“Shallowly,” he said with a laugh.

Dylan pulled again and it popped free. He ran his knuckles over the bulge in Tyler’s jeans, making Tyler hiss. It crossed Tyler’s mind that he should probably unzip himself, or stop and hold still while Dylan did, but he was too busy sucking on Dylan’s neck to do either. When long fingers slid into his underwear and wrapped around him, he groaned and reached for Dylan. His hand was inside Dylan’s underwear before Dylan could even get his trousers unzipped.

Dylan was thick and hard, the size when hard coming as no surprise. You live with someone for more than a few months, you see his dick a time or two. At least that was true when you lived with a couple of 19-year-olds who liked to surprise you in the bathroom--and, of course, you had to get revenge at some point, right?

He loved the way Dylan gasped and pushed forward into his hand. He was doing this to Dylan, making his breath catch, making him flex his muscles to make his dick jump.

In a few seconds, they both had their dicks out of their underwear, the waistbands low near the base with the rest trapped against their bellies. Tyler pushed Dylan back, his mouth covering Dylan’s as he advanced, then used his free hand to push Dylan’s shirt up to his neck.

He pressed his lips around the mole on Dylan’s chest, just above his nipple, tonguing it like maybe he could get Dylan off that way, then moving to the nipple below it and sucking hard.

“Jesus.” Dylan’s fingers slid into Tyler’s hair, stroking and pulling with just the right pressure.

Tyler was aware that Dylan’s other hand had squeezed between them so Dylan could rub himself. He nipped lightly at the other nipple, smiling when Dylan flinched, then kissed his mouth again.

“C’mere,” Dylan managed to say with Tyler’s mouth pressed against his. Dylan grabbed his hip, finger sliding into a belt loop, and pulled him down so their bodies pressed together. He groaned as he pushed up, rubbing against Tyler.

The slide of their skin made Tyler gasp, just knowing that his dick rubbed against Dylan’s was enough to ratchet up the tension in his entire body. And the way Dylan pulled his hips, trying to pull him down harder against him--it was thrilling to see Dylan so worked up _by him_.

So worked up, that he grunted and shook his head, and pushed Tyler up and back until their places were reversed. Dylan straddled Tyler’s hips now, and with a groan he lowered himself to press their bodies together. The skin between them grew slick as Dylan humped against Tyler, their cocks sliding together, the thrill enough to make them both cry out when they lined up perfectly.

Dylan dropped lower and kissed Tyler--one of those passionate, open-mouthed kisses he’d watched Dylan give his costars and imagined for himself. He tasted the real thing now, and it was better than he’d ever imagined, and he’d imagined it as _amazing_.

“Yeah,” Dylan groaned, rutting his hips down against Tyler’s faster, impatient, and Tyler thought again how much younger he was. Only four years or so, but those years had made a difference in Tyler’s patience when it came to sex, as well as other things. He wasn’t about to try to slow Dylan down now, though. He grabbed his hips and pulled down with each of Dylan’s thrusts, grunting along with him as they both got close.

“Yeah, come on.” Dylan clamped his mouth over Tyler’s as he rocked his hips. His body froze, and heat spread between them. But Tyler wasn’t there yet.

He clamped his hands on Dylan’s waist to hold him still so he could thrust up. Dylan yelped into his mouth, gasping and trying rock in Tyler’s hands. Tyler thrust up against him, pulling Dylan’s body hard against his. His tongue slid against Dylan’s until he caught it between his lips with a firm suck just as his pleasure hit.

He grunted and bucked up, and would have bounced Dylan away if not for the firm grip on his waist. Dylan said something, _oh yeah_ or _oh god_ , Tyler couldn’t make it out and didn’t care. The tone of his voice, the pleasure and excitement obvious there, was more than enough.

But when Dylan slumped on top of him, his forehead pressed against Tyler’s temple, and he breathed, “Tyler . . . _wow_ ,” well that, that was as good as anything he’d just felt.

“Yeah,” Tyler agreed, still catching his breath, his hands sliding up and down Dylan’s sides. He’d lost the layer of softness he’d had at 18, and wasn’t skinny anymore, either. He’d filled out nicely in the right places. Short of being muscular, he was pleasantly lean and lithe. Tyler felt every ridge and curve, the muscles toned beneath the skin but not bulky. _He’s just right_.

And damn, if he didn’t _do_ everything right, too. Dylan lifted his face to look down at Tyler, sweat obvious on his upper lip, then kissed him. It was surprisingly soft, but not chaste. Dylan smiled into the kiss.

“What?” Dylan asked, afterwards, while looking down at Tyler for what might have been an uncomfortably long time if Tyler hadn’t been floating and beyond caring.

“Nothing. What?”

“You seem . . . quiet.”

Tyler resisted the urge to shrug. “So?”

“But you’re _not_ quiet, Hoech. Hardly ever.”

“I’m stunned.”

“Is that good?”

Tyler cupped the back of Dylan’s neck and pulled him down, his tongue slipping between Dylan’s lips as if he’d done it a thousand times. That was all the answer he gave.

“So,” Dylan said, lifting up and licking the corner of his mouth. “Is this, like, a thing now?”

“Me being quiet and stunned?”

That got Tyler’s hips squeezed between Dylan’s knees. “No, you know what I mean. This. Us.”

“You want that?”

Dylan looked at him as if it were a trick question. “Do you? And I swear to God, if you say you asked me first, I’m gonna let this mess dry in all your belly hair.”

Tyler chuckled. “You’d suffer, too.” Dylan’s treasure trail was as thick as Tyler’s. He knew, because how could you not notice that?

“ _Dude_ . . . .”

“ _Yes._ I want us to be a thing. As long as you want that, too. Yes. That was amazing.” He dared slide his hand down to Dylan’s buttock, to squeeze and pull their bodies tightly together.

“Yeah. Was that your first time? I mean, with a guy.”

“Yep. Yours?” Tyler hoped so.

“Doing that? Yeah. I mean, I’ve jerked it in the same room with friends before, but no touching or anything. Didn’t know what I was missing.”

That made Tyler smile, and made him feel proud. It was a thrill to be Dylan’s first. Maybe he could be the last? _Stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Don’t--_

“Hey, Hoech!” J.R. shouted and knocked on his trailer door. “What’s up?”

Dylan hopped up, frantically wiped at himself and arranged his clothes.

Tyler thanked everything thankable that J.R. wasn’t the type to barge in. The door was locked, but still, trying to come through a locked door and then discovering them there together--uncomfortable questions. Well, maybe for Dylan they would be. Hoechlin wouldn’t feel the least bit awkward telling J.R.

Tyler got up and tidied himself as best he could, then looked back at Dylan, who nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. He managed to make it messier.

“Hey, whatcha doin’?” Tyler unlocked the door and opened it one smooth move, hopefully disguising the fact that it was locked.

“Let’s go out.” J.R. grinned. “Unless you have something--oh, hey, Dylan,” he said, as Dylan approached Tyler from behind. “You guys have plans? We could all go, or I can bug off and catch ya another time.”

“Nah, I was just going.” Dylan clapped Tyler on the shoulder and made his way around him. “We were just playing _Halo_ and bullshitting. See you guys.”

J.R. backed down the steps to let Dylan out. “See ya, Dylan. So, wanna go? I’m starving,” he said to Tyler.

“Yeah, yeah, just let me change really quick. Come on in.” He looked toward Dylan, who waved before he rounded the end of the trailer. He waved back, then closed the door.

J.R. hadn’t suspected anything, or if he did he had the good grace not to say so. But damn, Tyler had wanted to tell him. He wouldn’t betray Dylan’s trust, though. As far as he knew, it was a huge secret. Dylan hadn’t kissed him goodbye or given any indication of what they’d just done in front of J.R., so Tyler was sure he didn’t want people to know. At least not yet.

_Don’t get your hopes up, Tyler._

But he couldn’t help it. They might never be open and out, individually or together, for all he knew. Lots of factors went into that. But it would be nice for more of his close friends to know certain things.

The next day, he went to Dylan’s trailer during a break after screwing up his courage, but he was gone somewhere with Posey, or so the stagehand who saw him knocking said.

He filmed most of another scene, Derek and Braeden, no kiss this time but tension between them. He thought of Dylan, and it was easy.

He had to wait now, probably at least an hour before he’d be called back, so he headed off the set intending to go to his trailer and try not to wonder if Dylan would stop by again. A hand came down on his shoulder while he was lost in thought.

“Hoech. How’s it hanging?” Dylan grinned and fell into step next to him.

 _Doing better now_.  “Doing good, you?”

“Me?” Dylan looked around, behind them, in front, side to side. “I’m just great.”

He grabbed Tyler’s arm and pulled him through a door off the hallway. They nearly filled a small closet with a flickering fluorescent light that sounded like an angry wasp. Dylan pushed Tyler against the closed door, his whole body pressing against him.

Tyler’s hands slid around to Dylan’s lower back as he laughed. “What are you doing?”

“What, none of your girlfriends ever pulled you into a closet to give you a blowjob before?”

Tyler could only groan in answer because Dylan’s mouth covered his in a deep kiss. The kiss would have had him hard even without the thought of an illicit broom closet BJ while their friends could be walking back and forth just outside the door. But he was going to get that, too? And then get to walk back out and pretend that he hadn't just been given an orgasm by his sexy, younger co-star, making everyone wonder what that new twinkle in his eye could possible be?

“No, actually,” Tyler admitted. “Has it happened to you?”

"Yeah," Dylan said. "But I've never _given_ anybody a blowjob in a closet before, so we're even." Dylan looked at him with that charming half-smile that made him look older than usual. Then Dylan dropped to his knees and made Tyler's eyes roll back.

He pressed his palm against the door and laughed, his head against the wood, his eyes closed. “Are you sure you’ve never done this?” Tyler gasped at a particularly enthusiastic suck, and marveled the difference between the blowjobs he’d had and this one. This was rougher, more sure in a way that surprised him, but he guessed having your own dick made you pretty confident about what to do to one.

“All right?” Dylan looked a little worried that he might not be doing a good job.

“More than all right. Don’t stop,” Tyler managed, and then shouted a little too loudly as Dylan sucked him back in. He put his own hand over his mouth and tried not to giggle. He moaned behind it and rocked his hips, close now. There was no way he could go any slower, not with Dylan sucking him like that and moving his hand just right.  

When Dylan’s other hand came up to rest on his stomach, palm over his navel, Tyler grunted and thrust forward. “I’m--” was all he got out before he came, surprising Dylan, who did his best to keep going, but had to stop and cough before Tyler was finished. A thin white line he splattered on Dylan’s cheek was suddenly one of the most erotic things Tyler had ever seen.

Dylan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and went to wipe his cheek. Tyler grabbed his wrist. “Wait. C’mere.” He pulled gently.

When Dylan stood and pressed against him, he looked eager, like he might be waiting to hear how he’d done. “Not bad, huh?”

”Not bad? I think I might be an inch shorter.”

Dylan laughed, his darkened lips standing out against his pale skin. Tyler touched his cheek, just below the white line. He leaned forward, licking his lips. _Am I really gonna do this?_

“If I . . . will you think it’s gross, or . . . ?”

Dylan turned his head a little, offering his cheek. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Don’t know. Let’s find out?”

Tyler licked Dylan’s cheek, cleaning the line away. It wasn’t a pleasant taste, but it wasn’t unpleasant either. The act, though, the thought of what he was doing, was awesome. He licked the skin until all of it was gone, then sucked and nipped at the spot, his jaw, the rest of his cheek. He had the urge to lick all of him, his face, his neck, his body, but that would have to be another time. For now, he licked and sucked Dylan’s jaw like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever known, making Dylan moan. He slid over to Dylan’s mouth finished with an equally hungry kiss

Dylan pushed his hips forward against Tyler, who could feel how hard he was. “Totally not gross. _God_ ,” Dylan whispered.

“Good. Now it’s your turn.”

And that’s when they heard Jeff somewhere within earshot asking where Dylan was and someone answering him saying he hadn’t seen him in a while, and Jeff wondering if he was late again, and then the words faded out.

Dylan groaned and helped Tyler tuck himself back into his pants, which was no easy feat. “They’ll be looking now.”

As soon as Tyler’s pants were fastened, Dylan pressed a kiss to his mouth--an open-mouthed, dirty, promise-filled kiss. “But I’m sure we’ll run into each other later.”

“So . . . you don’t want anybody to know. Right?” Tyler needed to know.

“Dude, I want everybody to know. But you realize the crap we’d have to put up with? If you want to tell, we will, but I think--”

“No,” Tyler said, feeling lighter than he had in a while now that he knew where Dylan stood. “They’ll make us crazy. Let’s keep it secret, at least for a while.”

“You read my mind.”

Tyler kissed him this time, while they were switching places so Dylan could leave first. He wanted to touch and grab and stroke, but Dylan had to walk out of here looking casual.

Dylan pressed his hand against the mound in his pants, trying to shift himself to hide it better. Before he opened the door, Dylan said, “I figure around six or so I might be leaving the other soundstage. Just, you know, there’s probably a closet somewhere near there.”

Dylan left before Tyler could grab him again.

Tyler pressed his forehead against the door, smiling with sheer happiness. His phone chimed, a picture text from Dylan.

 _Haha, bet you thought it’d be a dick pic. But look how pink it still is. Had to tell Jeff I’d dozed off leaning on my hand._ The picture was a selfie of his cheek, where Tyler had enthusiastically kissed the mess away.

He nodded, chuckling. Yeah, he might have expected a dick pic from Dylan. That it wasn’t his dick but his cheek, that felt better somehow. It thrilled him.

He typed back; _Can’t wait to pink you up like that somewhere else._

It didn’t take long for the reply, and he could picture Dylan’s wide-eyed face saying the words: _BRO I AM AMONG PEOPLE DONT DO THAT TO ME_

He didn't know where their relationship would go from here, when they might tell anybody, if ever, but at that moment, he didn't care.The only thing going through his mind was how amazing he felt, and how he should map out the location of every closet on the entire set.

  



End file.
